Mirror, signal, red mist....

There's a myth perpetuated by the media that road rage and bad driving are the preserve of small boys in rubbish cars with great big spoilers. As an aside, if I ever fulfil my destiny and end up running the country I'm going to outlaw modification of cars under 1.4 litres. That'll fuck 'em. Anyway, I'm here to tell you that it's not them at all. It's thirty-something women on the school run. To get to Small Person's school we have to run the gauntlet of another primary school and it's like something out of Mad Max. If viewed from above it would look like a demolition derby as frazzled, furious women jockey for position outside the school and passing (or trying to) motorists wave their arms and bite lumps out of their steering wheels. Every so often a lollipop lady will up the stakes by plunging headlong and without warning into the melee, adding a frisson of danger and excitement to the whole event. There's the added bonus of a single-lane bridge just past the school and often a hapless and not-aggressive-enough driver will sit forlornly on the other side as cars stream relentlessly past them. My current tactic is to turn up the stereo so Small Person can't hear me swearing and to not lift my foot from the accelerator (lollipop ladies permitting) until we're safely through. After that it's a clear run to Small Person's school, where I like to frustrate other drivers with a breathtaking display of dangerous parking accompanied by no indication whatsoever of what I might do next.

In other news, I demand that everyone who hasn't already done so goes out this evening and rents Mighty Wind.